Void
by on hiatus sorry
Summary: I was conflicted. I couldn't tell whether I wanted to f*** him or kill him. He made me so damn vulnerable, and I couldn't beat him into a hapless oblivion to be gone of him, like with almost everything else. All I knew was that I felt something for him.
1. The Fall

**Spoilers for Arrancar arc and up! **This is my first GrimmUlqui fic! Sorry if the angst is too dramatic (angsty). :D don't yell at me for making Kitty-chan sad! Or wait, do, if you wish, because I really appreciate reviews.

Part 1: The Fall

My perception of depth and emotion isn't great. Maybe if I knew how deep a lake Ulquiorra Cifer was, I wouldn't have jumped.

He said nothing unless addressed, and even then, he'd probably ignore you. He was as condescending as that asshole Tousen, and he would've been Aizen's whore if that creepy Gin wasn't. Yet he didn't revel in any praise, and I bet even "Aizen-sama" couldn't guess his motives. Even with all the cards on the table, he was mysterious.

He was stronger than me.

He was nothing like me.

He was fascinating.

I hated him.

Hated the way everything somehow stopped (as if time barely didn't pass in this hell-hole) when those blankly emerald eyes bore into me. Hated when he quietly pronounced me _trash_, his musical voice stretching through the heavy air. Yeah. Musical. I'd been reduced to some pussy-whipped mush. Wouldn't you, if you had to describe something as fucking musical?

I was conflicted. I couldn't tell whether I wanted to fuck him or kill him. He made me so damn vulnerable, and I couldn't beat him into a hapless oblivion to be gone of him, like with almost everything else.

You know how exciting Hueco Mundo is, "land of eternal night." No fucking distractions, especially living in this Las Noches thing. So, he consumed my thoughts, my time, me. I prodded him with insults, tried to fight him, initiate a rivalry. He never let me, never gave me the honor. We weren't equals, clear sign tattooed on our bodies. In return, I'd never admit that obvious, frustrating fact.

I couldn't get to him, no attempt at bending or breaking would work. He was impassive, statue-esque. If I could crumble him, could delve into him; if that made him mine - I'd do it, try it. Call me obsessed. Maybe I was back where my as-close-as-you-can-get-with-being-dead-you-know? feelings started.

All I knew was that I felt _something_ for him.

I'd love to say I don't remember that day. Fine, I don't remember what hallway it was, or how I ended up behind him. But I can bring back exactly how cold his slate skin was, perfectly smooth hierro stiffening under my touch. His angular collar bones, my fingers wrapping around the spherical gap that reminded him, reminded me, who we were. I explored him, if not to learn, to feel more of this enemy, this infatuation I had.

"Grimmjow…"

I think then he turned his head, twisted his torso to ... and again, I wouldn't know because I pressed my lips against his dark ones, and pinned him to a pillar. The taste on his tongue was faintly bittersweet, no doubt tea from one of those pointless conferences. He didn't blink, the impact nothing. I continued to touch, with anything, anywhere I could get. For a moment he was engulfed, and a brief second of confusion, of clarity, of that side of him I'd never see again showed; my muscled frame pressing flames at this slender figure of ice.

And back to analyzing, to testing, he traced my back with lithe fingers, and I could sense curiosity there. It wasn't what I was hoping for, whatever it was I wanted. Maybe I wanted him to punch me, maybe to kiss me back as hard as I had kissed him.

But then and there I wanted to think I had won, had claimed some of the Cuatro Espada as my own. I pushed it, and was kind of surprised to find he'd let me fuck him. He never screamed, let alone moaned. He'd sigh, but never with any conviction, never with emotion. It drove me insane and drew me in. Sex didn't change anything, but was all we had.

We weren't a couple. Couples are blissfully ignorant and romantic and have dates. That's what those sluts Loly and Menoly said, anyway. We were none of those things. Most "dates" started with a few rough bites and kisses, and ended in either of our rooms. During this, I became animal instinct, became dominant. It wasn't role reversal, though I wished. He still had control of the situation, was always thinking, never just doing, was always experimenting with theories and answers. I didn't see what enigma I might pose- I wasn't layered, I was just me - but went along with it. Just _did, because I thought I could feel._

_And so it was. This same cycle, sick and twisted. I wanted him, and we both knew regardless of what he let me do he would never let himself go. But he let me hang on. The bastard knew I irrevocably was attracted to him, predator and prey. And in his own way, with no trace of malice, he was playing me. Toying with whatever fragment of my "soul" was left._

_You could say I was addicted to him, but that's me. Ever wanting what's bad for me. _

_Once, I had wanted to solve the puzzle that he was. I didn't finish solving him, but I did learn he was empty or something. I came up with my own conclusion, because honestly, I don't give a shit about nihilism or what a heart is. I knew that because he was so empty, I was being used. He was trying to fill a void he wanted to prove was there. _

_Now it was him who was screwing with me, but the only thing that wasn't mirrored was he actually had fucked me up. He knew, just didn't care. And slowly, I began not to care._

_The beginning of the end, quite literally, started with those magical words of the God-Almighty Aizen. Calm, amused. _

_"We will have guests."_

_I had no fucking idea that all I had left in this sham of an afterlife would explode in my face. _

_A/N: Aaah I know that was rather short! The next chapter will switch tenses to present, because… I feel like it. _


	2. Fatal

A/N: POV switch/tense switching! I tried to keep Ulquiorra in character, and if you can't tell, this is the meeting where Grimmjow's debuts in the series. Oh, and at the end of this document, the italics end at _"I couldn't…" _I think FF hates me and will not let me change it.Review?

Part 2: Fatal

"Now you don't have anything to complain about."

His bright blue eyes flashed at me, outraged, loathing. He almost hissed. He was upset so easily. He was wearing thin, I noticed.

Very thin.

It was in his nature. He couldn't stop his own attraction, attraction for _being_ and _destroying. _He loved the things he hated, and it only made his aspect of death turn him inside out. It was nothing.

Everything.

Arrancar, I've thought, have no soul. Most have raw, unbalanced impulses and tendencies, almost as childish and useless as human behavior. He was always like that - always foolishly reckless, stubborn. Always eager to overload his senses with violence-induced adrenaline.

Yet his lust for fight, lust for me does not sate him anymore. His attempts at injuring me during sparring are becoming increasingly wild, while at the same time we engage in behavior many would consider that of "love." Frustration, desperation seep through his cracking barriers of wild rage and delirium for blood. My polar personality forever keeps him wondering, wanting, but the Espada of destruction even has a shred of self-preservation.

There was only so much humility, only so much pride we could throw away.

I saw the disgust in his expression as my eye reformed. _Spared. _He thought I was making an allusion about our relationship. Unfinished, unrequited. I meant no such thing, but the accusation was not undeserved. He couldn't know. Of course he didn't know.

I wanted to want him as much as he desired me. His raw actions, emotions, kindled a longing in me. A want to see more than my eyes lent me, to feel more than the air, sand, blood. To be unrestrained.

He's never stopped to think that I can't return his overwhelming passion, that maybe

At that time

I was looking for a crack

in this static world.

I couldn't. That was not who I was, what I believed in. The entire span of my afterlife I had taken these principles, and now I was throwing them away.

If I let myself fall to these instincts, I'd become weak. I would be broken again.

The cracks so clearly etched on him were my warning, my cause, my burden. I couldn't become that, and strangely, though I tried to dispel these thoughts, I spent much of my time worried to the point of sickness that he would break. It was clearly wrong to have someone need you, and I couldn't need anyone again.

I've said the Espada are trivial in their tussles for power and respect. It is all we can do, as we can't forget what fading memories we once had.

I had thought I had rid myself of those.

The meeting adjourned - once Aizen retreated and Barragan finally hobbled away, I sonidoed in the direction of a large tower. I could feel his intention, and he followed me.

Gliding towards the window, the outlook was of the expansive dunes that we all once roamed. My attention was not held with that previous home, as the impending words were almost palpable.

"Why did I really do it?" I flatly quipped.

"No, why'd Nnoitra decide to become the patron saint of chastity? Of course. Why the hell did you do it?" The smart words, meant to be sarcastic, had a biting edge to them. "Your answer back there was bullshit."

I thought of the shocked, unknowing human, brandishing his meat cleaver of a zanpakutou, spirit pressure unsteadily bursting from him like a flood contained in an eggshell. I faced him. "Would you like the truth?" I slowly said. "I find him interesting. The child has more potential than any of us can even imagine, and I would like to see it one day." _Even if that opportunity should manifest itself in a negative way for us. _

"Interesting…" His eyes widened, the words blank. It wasn't a reply, but a replay of my words.

I tensed, expecting an attack, a scream, any retaliation. If this - this dysfunctional mess we were in - was ever going to end, it was now. I held my ground as he suddenly was mere inches from me, his eyes hidden as he stared at the floor.

"Tell me, Ulquiorra… Was I ever interesting to you?" His words were shaky. He was attempting to be calm, but the turmoil that brewed in him was evident. "Did I ever have this potential?" The stab at rhetoric was laced with the truth of the question. He leveled his gaze, a look brimming with an alien nakedness, an uncertain shield lowered, purposefully, temporarily. My chance at redemption; I was wordless.

The electricity that radiated off of him constantly was stilled, but the vortex wrapped around this eye of the storm tightly, closing in on us as I was paralyzed._ I couldn't… My silence devoured this window to act, and his gaze hardened, the burning aura returning. _

_A whirring noise awoke as I stood, still motionless, him tracing my hollow-hole much like his unspoken confession that seemed so long ago. Sparks burned my flesh as he centered his palm on the empty space. I knew what was coming. He wasn't about to kill me. It was a message. Something that needed to show this was gone, because he needed it. I would've thought it dramatic, but my brain seemed painfully dulled and I heard the sound eclipse into a high-pitched keen. The loud vibrato of a cero echoed as the blue beam singed the edges of the gap and exploded into a sand-storm through the window. _

_Grimmjow Jaegerjaques didn't look back as he disappeared into the shadows. _

_I didn't move, grounded as a spiral of smoke drifted away to rejoin the cloud that had formed miles away. I kept my sights on the exact spot where I knew my chance at having a soul had deserted me. _

_I gave up everything to not feel anything, but this last piece I'd parted with affected me profoundly. Affected me in an odd, painful manner. I felt as if breathing was too difficult a task to bear. _

_Is this what I once called … loss? _


	3. Jealousy

A/N: Sorry for the late update! This chapter has a lot of dialogue, hopefully you won't mind the change in style. It's also longer. Please review!

Part 3: Jealousy

Fuck him. _Fuck him._ I'm not even as important as some dumbass human. I hope that cero fucking hurt. I gritted my teeth at the thought of being seen as less powerful than the substitute shinigami, no more than a kid. But the churning emotion second to my indignation was shame - hot on my skin and unbearable.

The fourth Espada had humiliated me. Having sonidoed to my room, the sight of the sparse, starkly white setting only furthered my frustration. My fist met the stone wall and cracks shot out from the punch, a demented spider web blooming. Dimly, I felt the concerned reiatsu of my Fracción nearby. I could give a shit about them.

But the whole problem was that I still wanted him, _damn it, _after this.

"Stop throwing a tantrum - Aizen-sama wouldn't appreciate this, after all the ruin you've brought to Las Noches," A voice floated past my room, "Neko-espada." It was that gay kid, Luppi or something. I let my reiatsu flare up. A derisive chuckle. "Oh, I didn't realize your anger management problems were so easily upset. _Sorry." _I hissed. Who did that Número think he was?

Fuck Luppi. Fuck Aizen. Fuck Las Noches, and Ulquiorra. It all made me sick to the core, that I was trapped here, trapped wanting _him, _caged in this endless castle of "arrancar" and "Espada" and useless titles and-

I began to laugh. It didn't matter, anymore. Nothing did. I was going to do whatever I wanted, because it wouldn't kill me. Or would it? I don't know. It's funny, either way. My breathing's getting ragged.

_Hell. I'm going to have a little fun. _

Smirking, I knew my followers would do anything I told them. Shawlong made them, the crazy fuck thought I was this pinnacle of strength and power. Yeah, I know. Even the others thought it was stupid, and I couldn't blame them. I didn't care about them like how Starrk was with Lilinette. I knew he thought highly of me, treated me with the utmost respect, but I found I couldn't make myself care about things that didn't matter. Unless it involved a good fight. But now… I could use them. Striding out into the hallway, I slouched, running a hand through my hair.

"Shawlong! Nakeem! Yylfordt! Edrad!" They sonidoed to me, all bent over in a knelt bow. How fucking pathetic. At least I didn't have to do that to Aizen.

"Grimmjow-sama." I didn't even look Shawlong in the eye, instead carelessly looking around. I could tell he was looking at me, staring at me, searching me. _Did I really look that weak? _

So Ulquiorra thought he could began sparing people, all benevolent and shit? He was definitely Aizen's pet. All he needed was the smile.

"_I find him interesting. The child has more potential than any of us can even imagine, and I would like to see it one day." _

Guess you won't get to see that potential after all.

I felt wickedly delirious, _God, this is fucking great! _I sucked in another hungry breath, the lack of ectoplasm leaving my lungs aching. I hadn't been able to fight at all for the last couple months - mountains of hollows were no match for me. But this, this kid - he was so fucking angry, _furious_ that I had hurt that girl, the fight was… exhilarating.

Exhilarating that finally, someone was out of control and it wasn't _me. _And that this kid was just bursting emotions, with fear and anxiety and again, that rage that all said _You're losing, human. _Sure, he was strong. But at the same time, I didn't see any hidden potential, he hadn't even met Pantera yet, and he wasn't weak enough to leave alone. _You were wrong,_ I thought to nobody._ The hell, even when the bastard isn't here, he's ruining my fun. _

I narrowed my eyes just thinking of _him_. Suddenly, it seemed deathly quiet besides the boy's gasps. With a sharp realization, I searched the reiatsu in the surrounding area. _Fuck. They didn't only get D-Roy. Every single one?_ Maybe it was time to kill the brat.

Dusty smoke rose where the substitute shinigami had fallen at the end of a huge trench where he had carved the road, now lying in rubble at the foot of a building. I approached him slowly, and that confused, blank look he wore trying to make out what had happened and how to fix it was written so blatantly on his face made my grin wider. Snatching a handful of his shihakusho, dismay in his brown eyes, I punched him. Over and over again.

There wasn't a way to stop, because there was nothing left; my Fraccion were annihilated, and Aizen no doubt was going to make me suffer for this. But the delicious feel of bones snapping, flesh giving against my own made up for it all. How long had I had been able to just _obliterate _something like this? How long had I seen such turmoil in someone's eyes, instead of disdain and condescension? More, more.

Vaguely I felt the kid go slack, as if he wasn't really concentrating on the fight, but nothing, nothing compared to this. Tossing him up into the air, I almost laughed at the absolutely _dead_ expression on his face, my fist landing on him again and he shot into the night sky.

What must go up, must go down. I followed, kicking him back to earth. A cloud of smoke erupted. I spat, suddenly disinterested. He was too human, too disoriented, too unlike… "Is that all there is to a bankai? Don't disappoint me, Shinigami!" No response. "Is your speed the only thing that Bankai increases?" Still no answer. "Huh?" I yelled, thinking of wintry stares and silence for replies. _The hell was I thinking, this was no Ulquiorra. _

_This was just jealousy. _

"Hm?" I blinked of out my own reverie. His reiatsu flared. _What…_

"Getsuga…Tenshou!" The smoke cleared, and a black curve of energy whipped towards me; I raised my arms in defense. The attack burned, and I felt my hierro singe as the move scraped the skin off my forearms.

"What the hell was that?" Guess the kid had something up his sleeve, after all. "Ulquiorra didn't tell me about that move, Shinigami." The hell he didn't, this kid was definitely a threat. A nagging thought told me Ulquiorra could be right about the whole hidden-talent thing, but…

A dangerous smile touched the boys lips, blood streaking down his face. "Am I still disappointed you, Arrancar?" A shattering moment of role reversal - he reminded me of myself, so much that I began to laugh, ignoring the specks of blood that splattered around me.

"Bring it on, Shinigami! Now I can say that there is a reason to kill you!" The kid's smile faded, and he clapped a hand over his face. I frowned. He seemed immersed in his own thoughts, and I could see him struggling with something. "Oi, don't space out on me, Shinigami!"

I faintly heard a stretching noise behind me, disregarding it. "Now it's my turn!" Placing a hand on the hilt of Pantera, I pulled the blade from its sheath.

I felt shunpo, and I tensed. _Fuck. _Tousen. "Sheathe your katana, Grimmjow." I glared at Aizen's self-righteous slave, my zanpakutou sliding back.

"Tousen!" I heard the boy mumbling something, but ignored him. "Why the hell're you here?" Like I didn't know.

"Why, you ask?" The ex-shinigami sourly said. "You really don't know?" I twitched, resisting the urge to behead the justice-obsessed bastard. "You take it upon yourself to invade the real world, mobilize five Arrancar and then lose them in battle." The blind bat closed his eyes. "You are in violation of your orders." Closing the gap between us, he stopped inches from me. "You understand, don't you? Aizen-sama is furious, Grimmjow." I grimaced at the thought. _Well, I'm screwed. _

Flicking a finger, a Garganta opened, squares pulling back like guillotines from the fall. "Come. Your punishment will be decided in Hueco Mundo."

"Tch. Whatever." I muttered, wondering what else Aizen could take from me. I began to follow him into the gap.

"Wait! Where are you going?" The kid screamed from the ground stupidly.

I turned back. _I know. I'm not happy, either. _"Shut your ass up. We're going back…to Hueco Mundo."

"Don't play games with me!" He shouted. "You come here, attack us, and just leave on a whim?" He was standing, now. "You gotta be friggin' kidding me!" Screaming. "Get your ass back here! We're not finished yet!"

_Ha. You can't even begin to know that feeling. You don't think I've felt that before, rejection, shame? _

I noticed his eye was streaked with black, and a pang of frustration went through me. _Too bad I can't see what move is behind that._

"Gimme a break! Me leaving you is the only thing that could've saved you, Shinigami!" Guess I couldn't even finish what I started. "I can tell just by looking at you that move damages your body." He stiffened. Another look at his eye. "You can only handle two or three more shots." His eyes widened in indignation. "And even if you could fire those off without limits,

"you still wouldn't stand a chance against my released form!"

"Released form?" I chose to ignore his idiocy. _Just wait, you'll see it one day._

"Don't go forgettin' my name! Just pray you never here it again!"

"Grimmjow Jaegerjacques!" I shouted, shifting my weight. "The next time you hear this name will be your last, Shinigami!" The Garganta closed, his shocked gaze still fresh in my mind. _Wish I could've finished my fight with you, Shinigami. This was fun._

As I was led down the hallways, Aizen's crushing reiatsu heavy in the air, I couldn't help but smile. _I'm getting this one, Ulquiorra. _


	4. Threads

**A/N:** Aaah! I apologize to those who alerted this, I've been busy lately. Reviews will help the story update faster… :P

And as a warning, even though there is less swearing in this chapter seeing this is Ulqui's perspective, there's some darker themes and implications.

Part 4: Threads

I didn't let myself sigh. It was inevitable that this would happen. Undoubtedly, Aizen had known this insubordination would occur, yet with every gilded syllable, warning reverberated through our bones.

"Welcome back, Grimmjow." Magnanimous, his greeting echoed from the throne hall to the ends of the fortress. The decibel was profoundly high from where I stood, that is, one floor above the area itself. I wondered why I was here.

I had obviously made the right decision to protect myself. It wasn't sensible to lose myself in someone as volatile as he was. Except…

The voice of Tousen flared, hostile, and I heard a defiant, derisive reply. _For Aizen-sama. _Of course not. He trampled on our master's name as often as he could. He was incredibly arrogant, but it was not the tone defensive pride. The voice that snapped back at the ex-shingami's was wild, challenging, as if saying -

_What else can you take from me?_

I don't know why I knew how he felt. It disturbed me. The sound of unspoken words forcing through the synapse of my mind; I mentally reeled. My thoughts were cut short when I felt the staggering contrast between both increase and decrease in reiatsu, the splattering noise of blood.

His scream startled me, and I flinched a fraction of an inch. I heard a kidou spell, but the completely alien cry of disbelief, pain still jarred me. That was not a normal reaction. I had seen him pummeled and beaten, but never without that manic grin upon his face, never with _this_ sound, this absolutely helpless utterance.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, _shit_!" The normalcy of his swearing calmed me, reassured me that his colorfully rude exterior remained. Then I realized what I was thinking. I berated myself - _What are you thinking? You should be observing to note the demotion of his rank, to serve Aizen-sama, not to check his health, or…_

…_if the punishment would end in his death. _

This had to stop, at least, I could not lose composure here. I paced my steps, walking until I had reached the door that I knew led to my room. Having no Fracción, I had no worries of anyone bothering me, my chamber was isolated.

I reached for the handle, but halfway through the movement I already knew I would never open that door. The same pressure that had filled Las Noches was now directed in a smaller portion, his own personal trumpet fanfare. "Ulquiorra."

Turning, I was met with Aizen's pleasant but cold smile. "Aizen-sama." I addressed him out of habit.

I didn't break eye contact as he wondered if I would by the intensity yet amusement of his gaze. "You know of what happened to Grimmjow?" His words were light, falsely inquisitive.

"Yes."

His smile widened microscopically.

"Come. There are things we must do." With a fluid pivot, the man walked further down the hallway before stopping at an undecorated section of wall. A doorway melded into the stone, and a door swung open as Aizen entered. I followed, and by the time I had reached the entrance a white couch and a red rug embellished with gold borders had become the dwelling's furniture.

He was facing the last wall, and a window with an rounded oval top had formed, three rods running down the center. "You shall go back to the Human World soon." There were no need for replies, I knew.

"While they are fighting, you will persuade the human girl Orihime to come here. You shall make it seem as if she betrayed Soul Society of her own will. Kisuke should know I'm lying, but Yamamoto soutaichou will forbid her rescue. In issuing something forbidden, of course the substitute shinigami will want to save her, knowing none of the captains will. What do you think?"

"The plan is flawless." It had to be. There were never mistakes in Aizen's games.

"Good. I'm glad you think so. This will be her room." He looked back at me indulgently. "Make sure she won't escape."

There was a subtle emphasis in his wording. _Will not_ had a uniquely perverse meaning from _Can not _in this situation. I blinked. I had to erase her desires to leave.

"Ulquiorra." My name, again. The name he gave me. Aizen began to walk, with a suspension so purposefully tangible I resisted looking away.

He halted, sixty-five centimeters from where I stood. "Lately, I think your resolve is wavering. I think you've divested a part of yourself to Grimmjow. If you continue, your loyalty to me wanes.

"If you continue, you will regain your memories."

I said nothing. It was true. The flashes, the interpretative telepathy… but … Was it so wrong this way? Or would I break with letting him have his share of my thoughts? Could I hang onto these threads I said I severed, from my failed attempts at "starting over?"

Aizen still wore his ever-present façade of kindness, and then was but a hairsbreadth away. His gaze flicked to my hollow-hole, where his ring finger barely rested on the faintest of the last burn mark. "I see you have a memento from someone."

I didn't know where to look. He must've known, nothing went on in the castle without his knowledge. A moment of weakness; I wanted to ask why my punishment started _now_ of all times. The digit slipped, and then pointed straight into the hole.

My surroundings became distortedly blurred, and immediately fear returned to me. Instantly I began to shake, the chokingly strong emotion hissing at my nerves and sending me into a cold sweat. I could hardly think sensibly, hanging onto the conscious part of my brain that wasn't short-circuiting to instinct. "Frightened already?" Far away, I heard his voice.

Another feeling slammed me - confusion. Thoughts swirled and were pulled and ebbed by sleepy impulses, guesses, but the muddled anxiety that claimed me would not disperse; I didn't know if I was physically flailing to push the sensation away, the images were coming, no -

"You should see yourself, Ulquiorra." Again, his laugh, where was he? Everything was wrapped around, looping knots and I could not make out one iota of what was going on, where I was, anything.

Just as quickly, a cool wave of relief washed over me, and I was on a high that pushed up and out because there was nothing left to do but rise, and I could not see I was so blissful, the pictures whitened with giddiness. An ecstasy that suddenly seared as a red-hot, ice-cold spear split, barbed spikes driving into me and I was pieces. Broken pieces that drowned in my blood, and my blindness became a burning pain that gagged those apprehensive knots into nooses and chokeholds. Something had been ripped from me, something precious, something dear -

The colors, the fragments almost came in their puzzle pieces solved, and I could've been vomiting I was so ill until it all sucked back from my mind. Clarity sang from my pores, I knew the ordeal had been a hallucination, but also a muted collage of prior incidents. I could control myself again. Think logically again.

"I spared you the details in the fabric." Absently, he inspected a fingernail. I had stilled my tremors, clenching the cloth in my pockets.

He was right, I hadn't seen faces or recalled any particular events. I would have shuddered to think of the results if I had. He had just loaned me the pure emotions of my soul. I was foolish to have wanted one. Had I been so childish as to forget what having one meant?

Then,

"This girl is not so different. Weave her a nightmare, sing her a lullaby. Do what you must." He gently pressed me against the door, where I realized I had stumbled back towards during the illusion. "Prove to me you have enough control to do so. To protect something now, without your emotions weighing you down."

I didn't meet his gaze when he brushed by the singe mark tauntingly before unzipping my jacket.

Maybe he had made this life for me, but I had to surrender.

As it went on, I ignored the pain. I didn't even need to analyze it. I blocked away everything, with this blissful calm. That is what Aizen gave me. _He _would've protested at such a trade-off, _he _would've never let anything force him so deeply in debt. Not at this price, he would've said.

I couldn't imagine living like _he_ did, fierce and fearless and free, uninhibited of the past. _He_ would always be stronger than me. There was a particularly forceful thrust and I dimly noted the wall cracking behind me. My bones crackled along. No matter. The wall would be fixed. Perhaps I would, as well. I stared over his shoulder, into the mostly bare room.

I noticed the window drew a small box of light, enough for one to sit in. For someone to contemplate in. It was like Aizen to think up of a little thing like that. She could look up into the sky, where I noticed the scythe-curved non-sphere was centered in between the poles.

The crescent moon was too, imprisoned, within the bars from a perspective. That made two.


End file.
